


i've got a weakness now

by endofadream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Creampie, Dom Steve Rogers, Exhibitionism, Incorrigible shit Bucky Barnes, Just two kinky old men, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sexting, Slut Shaming, Steve Rogers’s filthy mouth, Sub Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Verbal Humiliation, lots of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: “Of all your harebrainedfuckingideas,” is the first thing Steve says when he steps into their bedroom.“You’ve got quite the filthy mouth today,” remarks Bucky.





	i've got a weakness now

**From Bucky  
** Do you know what sexting is

**To Bucky  
** Of course I do.

**To Bucky  
** Wait, why?

**To Bucky  
** ???

**From Bucky  
** ;)

**From Bucky  
** Hey steve

**To Bucky  
** Yes, Bucky?

**From Bucky  
** Guess what I’m wearing

**To Bucky  
** ……

Are you really doing this? Right now?

**From Bucky  
** What, not like I got anything else to do

**To Bucky  
** Not all of us are recovering assassins benched for the foreseeable future!!! I’m in a meeting.

**From Bucky  
** Replying awful fast for being in a meeting

;)

_[One Attached Image]_

**To Bucky  
** JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

BRUCE ALMOST SAW THAT

**From Bucky  
** You never guessed what I was wearing so I had to show you

**To Bucky  
** You could have just said nothing!!

**From Bucky  
** Yeah but then you wouldntve seen how hard i am thinking about you

Do you wanna know what Im gonna do next

**To Bucky  
** Jesus Christ.

You are…such a bad boy, Buck. A very, very bad boy.

Tell me.

**From Bucky  
** I’ve got a plug out. my favorite one

and Im gonna finger myself open enough to slide it in

gonna keep it there for you stevie

wait til you get home

**To Bucky**

Yeah? What do you want me to do when I get home?

**From Bucky  
** I want you to slide the plug out and eat my ass until i cant think

then i want you to fuck me

**From Bucky**

its taking you an awful long time to reply steve

did i break you ?

**To Bucky  
** Yes

You asshole

There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get up when this meeting is over.

**From Bucky  
** What a shame

_[One Attached Image]_

Think threes enough or should i do four

?

**To Bucky  
** You are such a little shit.

I’m going to fucking wreck you when I get home. You’re not going to be able to walk when i get done with you.

**From Bucky  
** is that a promise?? ;)

T **o Bucky  
** You’d better slide that plug in. And don’t you dare fucking come.

**From Bucky  
** yes sir

_[One Attached Image]_

——

“Of all your harebrained _fucking_ ideas,” is the first thing Steve says when he steps into their bedroom.

“You’ve got quite the filthy mouth today,” remarks Bucky.

It’s a damn good thing he’s face-down-ass-up, otherwise the grin on his face would have completely derailed the whole blasé attitude thing that he’s going for. Wriggling his hips makes the tip of the plug press against his prostate which then makes him whimper into the pillow he now has between his teeth.

He’s walking thin ice, he knows.

Behind him there’s the rustle of clothing being removed, followed by Steve’s heavy footfalls. Itmakes Bucky’s heart jump into his throat. Instinct coupled with training has him clocking Steve’s every move, using sound to calculate the distance between him and the bed.

“Yeah, ‘cause of you,” Steve says. The way he's moving around the room makes Bucky feel like prey being stalked. Steve can be gentle as a lamb, but he turns into a lion easy enough. And with all that brute strength, well.

Never let it be said that Bucky doesn’t like it rough.

The bed dips with a low creaking of springs; between his legs Bucky’s cock jumps. He draws in a breath and holds it. Steve’s always liked taking his time, and if there’s one good thing HYDRA gave Bucky, it’s patience.

“Me?” asks Bucky innocently. “What did I do, baby?”

The resonating _crack_ of a slap registers before the sharp sting of pain does. Jerking forward, Bucky gasps, a hot burn blooming across his ass. Steve had just barely missed the handle of the plug. Bucky is pretty sure that it was intentional.

“You know damned well what you did,” says Steve. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Little slut.”

Oh, yes. Bucky arches and Steve says, low and dangerous, “I fuckin’ knew it. Bet you wanted everyone to see how hard you were, huh? If I had video called you would have let them watch you finger your slutty hole open for me, just waiting for me to get home and stuff you so full you couldn’t think straight.”

There’s an appeal to that that Bucky can’t deny; the man he was before had a cocksure swagger and a preening sort of vanity. Now he’s a little more cautious, a little more reticent, but that kindling is still there just waiting to be sparked.

When he doesn’t answer right away Steve chuckles lowly, a timbre that sends sparks racing down Bucky’s spine; he doesn’t need to see Steve to know what kind of crooked, self-assured grin he’s got on his face right now.

“Yeah,” says Steve slowly, trailing his hand down the back of Bucky’s thigh, then back up to the swell of his ass. With one hand he cups the firm flesh and kneads, making Bucky’s toes curl. “Time ain’t changed a thing, has it, Buck?”

“No,” Bucky says, the vowel stretching out long when Steve’s finger slips between his cheeks and jostles the handle of the plug. “ _Oh_ , Stevie—”

“God, I love hearin’ my name come outta your mouth,” Steve murmurs. It’s soft enough that, for a moment, Bucky wonders if he was supposed to hear it at all. Then he stops wondering completely, because Steve’s open hand comes down hard on one cheek, then the other, rapid-fire.

Crying out, Bucky fists the sheets. It stings, his flesh heating, but feels so good.

“Steve,” he says, half-delirious, “baby, please.”

“What?” asks Steve, striking three more times, twice on the same cheek. Bucky mewls, hair falling into his face when he rocks forward. “‘Please’ what, Buck?”

Words are slow coming. Bucky spits out the hair that had fallen into his open mouth. Steve’s hand, broad and large and warm, rests like an anchor on his hip. Every part of Bucky’s body feels electric, coiled and waiting. He wants, so badly, to press back, find out if Steve is fully naked. And, if he is, slide his cock between Bucky’s cheeks, all that hot, smooth skin right where he needs it.

Bucky says, “Eat my ass until I can’t think.” Then adds, “Please.”

Steve hmms, pretending to ponder. “For such a naughty boy,” he drawls, “you sure can be polite when you need something.”

The sweet but long-suffering facade drops quickly, and it almost makes Bucky physically shudder. The whole purpose was to push Steve’s buttons, but sometimes Bucky forgets the way Steve is when he’s displeased.

“‘M sorry,” he whines. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve’s palm comes down again, hard, in the middle of Bucky’s left cheek. The cry that almost comes out of Bucky’s mouth is silenced only at the last second by the sheets on the bed, Bucky’s teeth clamping down.

“I don’t believe for a second that you’re sorry, Buck,” says Steve, like Bucky isn’t ass-up and naked in front of him with a mouthful of cotton-blend. “Sure, you can look all pretty, and beg in that cute voice of yours, but you and I both know that’s a lie.”

Bucky drops the wet mouthful and goes to open his mouth, but Steve isn’t done: “You’re just an unapologetic whore beggin’ for a nice cock up his ass.”

Jesus Christ. Bucky nearly goes cross-eyed; the words hit him almost physically, shaking deep down and igniting his nerves.

“Lucky for you,” Steve lazily continues, “I can help you out with that.” He seizes a handful of Bucky’s hair and yanks hard, bowing his back. Bucky moans like Steve’s just shoved his dick in him. “But you’re gonna let me come in you as many times as I can before you’re even allowed to touch yourself. Think you can do that, Buck? Think you can hold off when you’re so full of my come it’s dripping down your balls onto the bed?”

“Ohh, _fuck_ ,” says Bucky.

Because—Steve can come a lot. More than Bucky, whose record so far is four. Suddenly, the plug inside Bucky isn’t enough: he needs flesh, needs Steve in him.

“I can, I can,” he begs. “Steve—please.”

After some shuffling Bucky feels Steve grasp the base of the plug, then pull it out in an extremely not gentle move. Gasping, Bucky clenches down on the empty space it leaves in him, wetting his lips at Steve’s cooed, “Look at you, that little hole so desperate for something to keep it nice and sloppy.”

A wet sound, then slickness dribbling down the cleft of Bucky’s ass. It only takes one second for it to click, and when it does searing arousal slams through him enough to make him sway and grab at the sheet to keep his balance. Steve spit on him. Bucky moans almost obscenely, acutely aware of the twitch of his cock hanging between his legs and his instructions not to touch.

Steve chuckles, a mean sound that Bucky knows is trouble. Then he’s spreading Bucky’s cheeks with two broad hands and burying his face between.

And, fuck, if it ain’t like dying and going to goddamn heaven.

Bucky falls to his forearms, whining helplessly as Steve’s mouth seals over his asshole, tongue easily slipping in to be fucked in and out with loud wet noises that drive Bucky absolutely insane. If he had more shame, he’d be blushing, the way those filthy-dirty sounds echo in their room.

Sinking lower, Steve points his tongue and rubs it over Bucky’s taint, pressing harder and harder until Bucky sees stars from that stimulation alone, before, blessedly, going back to something that’s _not_ Bucky’s prostate. Steve is always relentless when eating Bucky out, but this time definitely seems to be a new caliber: he doesn’t slow until Bucky is near-shouting, “G-gonna come, oh fuck, Steve, s-stop!”

Steve pulls back, then slaps Bucky’s ass hard. “Not yet you aren’t,” he says, low.

“Just shove it in me,” Bucky groans, unashamed and desperate. His words are a little high-pitched, breath still hitching unevenly in his chest. “You know I can fucking take it.”

“‘Course you can.” The eye-roll is nearly tangible in Steve’s voice. “Slut like you, you gotta keep yourself nice and loose all day. Never know when you’re gonna get another dick. Christ, might as well get an ‘open for business’ tattoo above this gorgeous ass.”

Now there’s a thought. If his skin could keep ink Bucky would find the closest tattoo parlor and go first thing in the morning. As it stands, such a thing is not possible and all Bucky can do is dream. Steve must sense the fantasy playing dreamily in Bucky’s head, because next thing is he's scoffing, saying, “How ‘bout next time I grab a Sharpie, hmm? Mark you up, then mark you up again with my come.”

Bucky’s pretty sure his bones liquefied, everything in him sinking to a shuddering mess against the mattress. He’s past moaning at this point, past everything that isn’t carnal desire. Gone is any human intelligence: in its place is a blaring siren, _DICK DICK DICK_ screaming at him.

He’s barely aware of the bed moving as Steve stands to discard his clothes, then dipping again as he settles back on his knees. All Bucky is aware of is his heartbeat, every pump of blood going straight to his cock, swollen between his legs and throbbing with how much it hurts.

Then there’s a slick, warm pressure against his hole, and Bucky cries out in blessed relief as Steve begins to feed his cock into him. Arching against it, Bucky inhales deeply against the initial stretch, shivering as that heavy weight settles in him. Every time it’s just as good; every time, Bucky wants to simultaneously draw this out and make it go faster.

Steve’s big hands wrap around Bucky’s waist, holding him in place as the last few inches disappear and Bucky’s left with Steve’s pubic hair pressing against the curves of his ass and Steve’s balls heavy and warm against his.

“Jesus fucking hell,” Bucky swears.

Steve laughs. It’s a little strained, tight against the squeeze around his cock. “Yeah?”

Bucky grinds back, just to listen to the hiccup in Steve’s breath. “ _Yeah_. Fuck. Move.”

The hand sliding under to Bucky’s belly, pinning the flushed weight on his cock against his stomach, is _not_ the kind of moving that Bucky asked for. He gasps, jerking hard at finally being touched. It’s so good, Steve’s hand on him, Steve’s cock in him, that coming would be so easy—

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it.” Steve lets go, gripping Bucky’s hip again. Then he begins moving, pulling out until just the bulbous head of his cock stretches Bucky open, before slamming back in.

It’s rough, no finesse, just Steve chasing his pleasure. He comes quickly, pressing his hips hard to Bucky’s ass. Both make almost no sound.

Steve begins moving again almost as soon as he’s finished coming, and this time the slide is slicker, filthy muffled sounds as every thrust pulls and pushes Steve’s come inside Bucky’s ass. Sweat prickles behind Bucky’s knees, at the creases of his arms where he’s dropped to his elbows. He inhales sharply, but it’s quiet, overwhelmed.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” Steve swears. His hands skate up and down the lines of Bucky’s body, like they don’t know where to stop. His voice is that wrecked-sounding gravel that makes Bucky flush from neck to tailbone; that’s a reverent voice, something that he, with his metal arm and assassin past, doesn’t deserve.

But—no. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not when Steve’s cock is deep in him, thick and throbbing and pressing in all the right places to make him see stars. He’s come a long way since Bucharest.

So instead he groans, “Oh, god, Steve. Oh, sweetheart.”

“Gonna get you so sloppy with my come,” says Steve as he begins to move again, slow at first before picking up pace. Soon he’s snapping his hips forward hard enough Bucky’s teeth feel like they’re getting rattled. When Steve comes again, it’s with a low groan that seems to go straight to Bucky’s dick, and god, he wants to touch himself, to _come_.

“Fuck,” Bucky groans as Steve slides out; the sound is slick and filthy. It quickly slithers down his balls, a warm trail that makes Bucky shiver.

“Look at you,” says Steve. “Two loads in and you’re already fucking wrecked.”

Those big hands at his hips flip Bucky onto his back before he can blink, and Steve is pushing in again, balls-deep on the first thrust. Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist and moans weakly, buzzing all over. The tickle of come sliding down the crack of his ass makes him shiver, again, and he wonders how full of it he is now, what it must look like between his legs when Steve pulls out.

He gasps, “Oh, oh,” with each thrust. Hands, metal and flesh alike, scrabble weakly at Steve’s broad shoulders. He thinks about the creamy mess of Steve’s semen, globules of it on the thick shaft of Steve’s cock, stringing down the shaved-smooth skin of Bucky’s balls.

He wants a fucking photo, a video. He wants to see where he’s stretched open and gaping.

Against his belly his cock drools, so hard it’s verging on painful. “Stevie,” he begs, “ _please_.”

“Please what?” Steve asks, and he barely sounds winded, the _asshole_.

“You know what,” Bucky snaps, but most of the heat is lost to a whine. Steve chuckles, then bends to press their mouths together.

“You,” he whispers, “are a filthy little slut.”

Steve props his weight on his left arm, sliding his right hand down to the swell of Bucky’s ass and hiking his thigh higher up. It changes the angle, the drag of the hard ridge of the head of Steve’s cock over his prostate making Bucky cry out breathlessly and shudder full-body.

“How many more can you take?” Steve asks, punctuated with each drive in. “If you could— _fuck_ —see yourself. Fucking brimming over with my come right now. And you still want more, don't you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky gasps. “Yeah, _yes_.”

Steve is so goddamn beautiful that Bucky isn't sure how he deals with it. Determination is something he wears on his face daily, no matter the task, but Bucky thinks it looks best like this, coupled with his sex-flushed skin and blown-black eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says, raking his metal hand through Steve’s hair, pushing it away from where it’s fallen into those eyes. Steve’s lower lip is bitten red, and Bucky bites his own unconsciously, saying low, “Come in me again.”

The deep, even drag of Steve’s cock quakes, jarring to a halt; Bucky digs his head back into the pillow as the warm rush of come fills him again. It leaves him gasping, trembling, almost on the knife’s edge of orgasm just from the sensation alone.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” Steve gasps. The shallow pumping of his hips slows, and he slides it with a low squelch. Bucky’s legs fall open, trembling where they splay; Steve’s curious fingers tease Bucky’s taint, then go lower to the gape of his asshole. Two slip in, seeking along his walls, and Bucky moans weakly as it sends come sliding out.

The heaving ridges of Bucky’s abdomen shine with sticky pre-come; his cock is dark red, throbbing and twitching sharply off his belly. Steve could breathe on it, Bucky’s pretty sure, and he’d come at this point. Lifting his head up, Bucky peers down between his legs, sees the shine of come on his inner thighs. He groans, “ _Fuck_.”

Steve looks up at him, then, and his mouth twists into a self-satisfied smile. He withdraws his hand, fingers covered in the white slick of his own come, and straddles Bucky’s thighs.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, sweet and soft. “Taken so much of me without even a complaint.” Wet fingers probe at Bucky’s slack mouth, and he opens it with a groan, eagerly sucking them in to taste the bitterness of Steve’s come. “Jesus, I love you. My little comeslut,” adds Steve fondly, bending down. He uses his clean hand to cup Bucky’s jaw as he kisses him, deep and filthy.

Bucky’s flesh fingers scratch along the short hairs at the back of Steve’s neck, and he arches into the kiss, pressing his body eagerly against Steve’s. “Love you, baby, so fuckin' much,” he gasps. He twists, trying to rub his cock against the hard plane of Steve’s belly. “Please, Stevie, let me come, _please_.”

“You wanna come?” Steve slides down, mouthing at Bucky’s neck, his collarbones, sliding his hand down Bucky’s side to curve over his hip.

“Yeah,” Bucky pants, tossing his head back as Steve’s mouth seals over one nipple, then the other. “Oh, _oh_ , sugar, you gotta—”

Three fingers shove into him without warning, and it’s only Steve’s hand pressing down on his hip that keeps him from jackknifing up. “Touch yourself,” Steve orders as his fingers rub against that spot, make Bucky see goddamn stars as he writhes helplessly against the sheets.

He fumbles for his cock, hissing at the touch against stretched-sensitive skin; it takes only a few half-strokes before his vision is whiting out, spine locking up. A wail begins low in his throat, escalating to a near-scream as Steve rubs him through it, relentless even after Bucky’s thighs have stopped twitching and shaking.

Bucky barely registers Steve’s fingers slipping out, the gentle press of his plush mouth against Bucky’s belly, where smears of come, still body-warm, slither. “So good,” Steve husks. “Christ, Buck, you’re so fucking beautiful. You know that?”

A noncommittal noise in the back of his throat is all Bucky can muster, still blissed somewhere ten feet above it all. Steve chuckles an answer, then places a final kiss on Bucky’s sternum. The bed dips as he gets up, and in the fuzzy distance Bucky hears the faucet in the bathroom running.

When Steve returns Bucky’s head is a little clearer, but he’s still swimming in post-orgasmic bliss. A warm washcloth cleans his belly, soothes gentle over his sensitive cock. Swipes across the soft insides of his thighs, Steve’s big hands following the damp trails.

“Think we should get you into the shower for this,” Steve observes. Bucky blinks open his eyes, finds Steve staring, brow-raised, between his legs. The scrutiny would normally leave Bucky flushing madly, but this time, for some reason, he feels oddly proud. He was so good for Steve, didn't come and took everything asked of him.

Steve stands again, presumably to begin the shower, but Bucky stops him with a hand on his wrist. “How ‘bout,” Bucky begins, and this time he feels the beginnings of a flush color his cheeks, “we get your phone first instead?”

It doesn’t register right away, Steve’s brows furrowed adorably, until it _does_. That brow-furrow turns into a raise turns into a devilish smirk, and Steve says, “Yeah? You want me to take a photo where you’re spilling over with my come, leaking all over the bedsheets?”

Bucky has to cover his face with his flesh arm.

“Maybe I’ll even let you come again,” says Steve conversationally.

“You fucking _better_ ,” swears Bucky, and Steve laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](https://endofadream.tumblr.com) and instagram is [here](https://instagram.com/wintersoldiered), if you’re into that sort of thing. i love discussing my works!


End file.
